


Charmolypi

by gryffindormischief



Series: Fresh Pickled Toad [72]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, harpy!ginny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindormischief/pseuds/gryffindormischief
Summary: Sometimes you just need to flop down and cry it out.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Fresh Pickled Toad [72]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/441613
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	Charmolypi

**Author's Note:**

> For anon on Tumblr who had a bummer. Love to you.

Ginny Weasley is never one to do the expected. In fact, Harry sometimes wonders if she’s so unexpected that it really is expected. It’s a concept he’d like to float by Luna and her out of the box brain. She’s probably the only person he knows who could puzzle it out. He got a little tipsy once and asked Ron, who proceeded to toss stale pretzels in his face. And one day out of a sheer desire to break the horrific silence that is working late with Hermione, he asked her. She blinked at him and told him to go take a nap on the couch. He did and ended up snuggling with Ron, definitely a less preferable Weasley to wake up spooning than his usual variety.

But all that’s really beside the point. Which right now, is the fact that Ginny Weasley attended a commiseration ‘we lost’ bash at the Harpy’s local pub, remained sober as a judge, and then came home and splayed herself on the kitchen floor like a starfish. A sad one. Ginny Weasley is the person who whips in like a tornado, who somehow is the center of everything without even trying or wanting to be. She's the life of the party and yet never looking for the spotlight. So finding her stone cold sober and lying on the floor like a lump is pretty much as uncharacteristic as she gets.

She doesn’t move although he definitely closed the door with a slam that usually earns him a half-assed talking to, kicked off his boots loudly, and then stumbled into the doorframe because he really needs a holiday and also a new pair of glasses.

With a half smile, Harry slinks over to Ginny’s side, her shirt rucked up enough to expose the purpling bruise on her ribs, and melts to the floor, shoulder to shoulder. “What happened here?”

His fingers tickle the edge of the mark and a shiver runs through her. A shiver that turns to a shudder and suddenly angry tears are slipping down her temples and he finally sees her bloodshot eyes. “I blew the whole damn game and practically cost us the season that’s what happened here.”

“You got hit with a bludger, Gin, nothing to be done about that.”

“What kind of tosser can’t keep their seat when a damn bludger knocks into them?”

“This kind of tosser,” Harry says, injecting a bit of humor into his voice even as he twists on his side and swipes at her tears.

“You were a kid - I’m supposed to be a professional,” Ginny grinds out, “I let the whole team down acting like a gormless idiot.”

“Hardly,” Harry says quietly, “I assume logic isn’t what you want right now or you’d be having this chat with Hermione.”

“She’s actually a pretty good pep talker,” Ginny admits with a wet laugh, “But I was too ticked off to care much for it. Remind me to apologize.”

Harry manages to work them both into sitting positions with one of Ginny’s legs tossed haphazardly over his hip so they’re basically chest to chest. Or forehead to chest since Ginny’s not doing much in the eye contact department at the moment. He nudges at her chin and she complies, and hell if her watery brown eyes aren’t the saddest thing he’s ever seen. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” 

“I’m not - it was a shit fest.”

“I love being the over invested fan boy,” Harry says, “And getting to be the supreme fan boy because I actually do get to take the hottest chaser home and let her, pardon my crudeness, ride me like a Harpy.”

Ginny laughs, a little more real this time, and her forehead drops against his shoulder. “Did someone tip you off that I was moping?”

“Ron.”

“What a little snitch.”

Gently, Harry runs his hand up and down Ginny’s back as her breathing begins to even out, no longer the labored, shuddering breaths of held back frustration. He presses a kiss to her temple and murmurs, “Would you like me to kiss your face until you forget about life for a bit?”

Ginny’s lips find his collarbone, and then her warm breath tickles his neck as she answers, “And maybe some other things too?”

“Anything you like, dear.”


End file.
